Stockholm syndrome
by SunnydayinPallet
Summary: Light just can't help but to observe. Every time the detective sleeps, Light stays awake, counting his every breath. Light may be L's prisoner, but his hold on the teen is much stronger then the chain that binds them together. Onesided L/Light


**Pairing: One sided** L/Light

**Rating: **T for shounen-ai, dark themes and some language

**Disclaimer: **Don't own Death note

A/N: This was inspired by the songs Over and over (Three days Grace), Infatuation (Maroon 5) and Stockholm Syndrome (Muse)

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I can feel him lying next to me, the heat from his frail body radiating through the thin blanket that it supposed to be for the two of us. I watch as he moves in his sleep, causing his ebony locks to sprawl down the side of the pillow. My fingers twitch in his direction, I want to touch him. Caresse his pale cheeks, pull my fingers through his hair, press my thumb against his lips...

I can hear him breathing in a steady rythm and I count every single breath, because every one is important. They indicate that he is indeed real, lying right next to me, full of life.

_In, out. In, out. In, out._

_One, two. One two. One two._

He doesn't sleep very often. L, I mean. Maybe two or three times a week, and even then it's not for long, never more then six hours.

Whenever he sleeps, I lay awake. I observe him, watch his every move. Count his every breath. Sometimes, I'm tempted to stretch my hand out and find his pulls, just so I can count that to... But I never do, because he's a very light sleeper, one hasty move, one slip of the finger, and the spell might break, bring him back to reality.

Sometimes though, my guard drops, self-control slips and I'll reach out and feel him.

I know something must be wrong. I understand that this isn't love, that something in my mind is all fucked up, because this isn't love, It can't be. It's infatuation. A sick, obsessive degree of infatuation.

I almost feel like a stalker. When I observe him, I notice these trivial things, but my mind just won't let them go. I know how many pieces of sugar he likes in his tea (9) and I know he prefers more pieces in his coffee (11). I know what his favorite food is (strawberry cheesecake) but I also know that he won't eat it before twelve. I know that he prefers chewing his left thumbnail rather then his right. I know that it takes him an average of two-point-twenty-two seconds to brush his teeth in the morning, but he only spends one-point-seventy-one minutes cleaning them in the evening...

The list just goes on and I'll run through it in my head every night before I go to sleep until it drives me to the brink of insanity.

They call it Stockholm syndrome, when a captive falls in love with their captor. That it's some sort of coping mechanism.

But knowing what it is, giving... _this _a name doesn't change anything. It doesn't stop me from feeling. Knowing that something is wrong doesn't stop me staring at him while he works, it doesn't stop me watching his lips move as he devours his cakes and it most certainly doesn't stop me from watching him while he's sleeping.

Nothing could.

I wonder if he would keep the chain on if he knew what was going on in my head. Would it freak him out? Would he run? Put me back into the prison cell? Or would he use it to try and get me to trust him in an attempt to get me to reveal myself as Kira?

He shifts his weight again, towards me this time. Although we are both wearing pajamas, there's nothing on our feet and I can feel the pressure of his toes against my leg. His breathing speeds up, the rising and falling of his chest increasing in pace. I don't move, just watch his white shirt move up and down in this new rhythm.

_One two. One, two. One two._

I let my eyes fall closed, Imagining him pressing himself up against me. Imagining his slender, yet muscular arms around my waist, pulling me close. Oh, I want it so bad.

But I'm not that delusional, I know he would never indulge in anything with a suspect, especially not with a suspected mass murderer he doesn't have any feelings fore.

Though he has said that I'm his first and only friend. But I suppose it's just another way for him to get closer to Kira. He would do anything to catch Kira, not caring about who he hurts along the way. I suppose he goes along with the "the end justifies the means" thing.

I know it sounds strange, but I don't loathe Kira, not completely at least. Because although I wouldn't feel like this if it wasn't for him and although it's he's put me through so much torture, it's thanks to him I found L. Or L found me.

You know, even before he chained himself himself to me, I would think of him a lot. Not nearly as much or as in the same way as now, but still, it was a lot.

I just wish that he would think of me in the same way I think of him, that he would glance at me from the corner of his eye when I wasn't looking.

I open my eyes again, a lump rising to my throat. I swallow, holding back the tears. Crying won't help. Hell, it's just make things worse. I'd either wake L up, or he'd just see it on the security cameras in the morning.

Biting my lip, I continue listening to him breath.

_In,out. In, out. In out._

_One, two. One two. One, –pause._

I freeze, realizing that he his waking up, therefore changing the pace of his breathing. I quickly close my eyes again and turn away from him, pretending to sleep. I lie there in silence for a few moments, waiting for him to wake fully. A bony hand clenches hold of my shoulder, shaking it lightly, and I'm having a hard time not to shiver at his touch.

"Light-kun needs to wake up now, we need to get ready before the task force arrive," he says, not letting me go.

I mutter something in reply. Another long day lays ahead, a day full of me pretending that nothing is wrong.

A day full of pretending thad I haven't lost my mind.

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